


on the head of a pin

by peach_june



Category: iKON (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, BDSM, Crimes & Criminals, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Grief/Mourning, Heartache, M/M, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-06 01:17:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17335931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peach_june/pseuds/peach_june
Summary: This has been a long time coming, and they both know it. Something had to give.The death of the boss brings Junhoe and Jiwon’s tension to its breaking point.





	on the head of a pin

**Author's Note:**

> kind of a weird au? they’re criminals and it’s sort of a gang?? maybe more of a mob or a mafia, or even like a syndicate or something. i don’t know, but it doesn’t really matter i guess. if anybody wants more of this au i could expand on it more and make it make more sense lol.

The apartment is silent around Jiwon. Tomblike. Everybody sleeps lightly, without making much noise. It’s a necessity to be quiet, in their line of work. Usually, Jiwon likes the silence, but tonight he wishes there was something, anything to tie him to reality. Everything is distant.

 

The boss is dead. Jiwon hadn't expected it to effect him as much as it is.

 

He wants sleep, craves it dearly, but knows with near certainty that nightmares will come for him, and he can't find rest.

 

As long as he's still awake, he figures he should check in with his crew.

 

With a grunt, he sits up. Jiwon feels a couple small, insignificant wounds reopen, but he ignores them. They aren't life threatening. He pulls himself to his feet, slides a soft pair of sweatpants on and shoves his feet into the slippers that Yunhyeong insisted he wear around the apartment to protect his feet. Jiwon worries the fabric over his thigh, letting the texture and repetitive motion soothe him.

 

He shuffles through the apartment, making as little noise as he can.

 

Though he checks in with everyone, nobody seems to be having the same problem he is. Jiwon finds the crew in various states of rest and undress, though Donghyuk is simply meditating.

 

Junhoe isn't sleeping, though.

 

He has his head in his hands when Jiwon looks in on him. His room is eerily clean and silent, but for the unintelligible whispering he’s doing. Jiwon wonders if he should interrupt, but before he can make up his mind, Junhoe beats him to the punch.

 

"He's dead," Junhoe says. "Our fixer is dead."

 

Jiwon licks his lips, runs his tongue over the point of his canine. "It’s bothering me, too," he says, at length.

 

"Is it? He was like my father. You only even came back because he fucking offered you money," Junhoe says, sharp. He's on the edge, Jiwon knows. He's teetering on the precipice of anguish and wrath, and maybe once Jiwon knew how to defuse this time bomb, but as they've been running jobs together, he's learned that he isn't the only one changed.

 

Jiwon makes his decision. The door shuts with a heavy noise behind him, and he turns the lock with a click. Nobody in, nobody out.

 

"Junhoe-"

 

"Whatever you're about to say, don't," Junhoe slashes his hand through the air agitatedly, stands and levels his glare directly at Jiwon for the first time since they'd gotten back to the apartment. "I don't even recognize you anymore. I don't know if I ever knew you at all."

 

It's a slap in the face. Jiwon stiffens, his careful composure blurring a bit at the fringes. But he has to stay in control, especially when dealing with an angry Junhoe. "I don't know what you want me to say."

 

Junhoe snarls, teeth bared like he's a beast. "You didn't even try to save him."

 

"I did try!" Jiwon bites out, then takes a breath to calm himself. "I did. If I could go back and switch places with him, I would in a heartbeat. But he made the decision for me, just like he always did. His way or the highway, remember? How am I supposed to save someone who doesn't want to be saved?"

 

"You tried harder to save a bunch of fucking strangers than you did to rescue somebody who pulled our asses out of the gutter!" Junhoe accuses.

 

Jiwon shakes his head, knowing Junhoe is just trying to get a rise out of him. "You don't know what you're talking about."

 

Junhoe’s heavy steps shake the floor as he thunders toward Jiwon. "Don't you fucking treat me like I'm an idiot. You always do this! What the fuck is so special about you that you get to act like I'm just shit on the bottom of your boot?"

 

"When have I ever treated you that way?" Jiwon demands. "I come to you for advice, I ask your opinions, I come to check on you because you just went through a traumatic fucking event and I'm worried about you! You're the closest thing I have to family, even if you don't want me, and I haven't stopped caring about you for a single second for the entire time I've known you. I don't know what more you want from me, Junhoe!"

 

"Don't you bullshit me, Jiwon."

 

"You're calling me a liar, now?"

 

"It's what you do best, isn't it? Your whole job is to lie! Lying is all you ever fucking do!"

 

"Fuck you. I have never, ever lied to you," Jiwon says. He's trying not to shake, but he's failing. "Not one damn time. I would never lie to you. Ever since I met your punk ass, everything I've done was for you. All the lying, cheating, crime. All of it. I wanted something better for you, but now we're trapped here, scum on the outskirts of Seoul. So I guess you're stuck with this liar, unless you want to take a one-way trip to prison or death."

 

Junhoe doesn’t speak for a long moment. It seems like the world is holding its breath, waiting for his next words.

 

Jiwon can’t help but remember the last time they fought like this. It was the night he left, all those years ago. When he thought it’d be better for Junhoe if he wasn’t around. He knows that he can never be forgiven for that.

 

They’ve both come a long way since then, but in a way they’ve ended up right where they started. Once again, they’re left with only each other.

 

“I hate this,” Junhoe says, and Jiwon is brought back to the present. He sounds older and infinitely sadder. “I was almost something more. But now that the boss is dead, all that is just. Gone.”

 

Junhoe backs off, sits on the edge of his bed and sighs.

 

Jiwon hesitates, wondering if his comfort would be welcome. He edges closer despite his trepidation, his want to try and soothe Junhoe’s pain stronger than his fear of rejection.

 

“And you left me,” Junhoe says, so quiet that Jiwon almost doesn’t hear it.

 

He freezes in his tracks, something heavy settling in his gut. Junhoe looks up at him, blinking rapidly. Jiwon hates himself, hates that he put this awful look on Junhoe’s face.

 

“Ji, why did you have to leave me?” Junhoe breathes.

 

Jiwon breathes out sharply. He forces himself to bridge the gap between them. He cups Junhoe’s face, marvels at how his callused, bloodied hands can be so gentle. He has no excuses.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

Junhoe shuts his eyes.

 

The two of them stay in their pose for a long moment. Jiwon thinks they might be grieving. Not so much the boss, but maybe what could have been if Jiwon had just stayed.

 

“I don’t want to think anymore,” Junhoe says finally. “Help me turn my brain off.”

 

He opens his eyes.

 

Jiwon swallows hard. “How?” he asks.

 

Junhoe’s hands find the outsides of Jiwon’s thighs. “Fuck me.”

 

“You want-?”

 

“I missed you, bastard,” Junhoe cuts in. “I missed you. You were the only one who could ever make me stop thinking. Fuck me, please. I need you to.”

 

Jiwon feels like he’s drowning. He can’t do this. He knows Junhoe might not really want this, that he may just be asking because he’s hurting and angry and sad. Junhoe might regret this, might change his mind or punch Jiwon out.

 

But Jiwon doesn’t know what else to do.

 

“Okay,” he says. “Okay. I’ve got you.”

 

Junhoe nods. “Good. And Jiwon?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Be mean.”

 

Jiwon has to steel himself against the wave of anguish he feels at Junhoe’s words. He can’t bring himself to speak, but he nods, and apparently Junhoe deems that good enough.

 

Junhoe stands. He meets Jiwon’s eyes, then purposefully casts them downward in deference.

 

With a quick, steadying breath, Jiwon starts to enter the headspace that Junhoe needs him to be in. This is a battle like any other. The enemy is a little different, but Jiwon will still find a way to win.

 

“Strip,” he says, giving his voice an edge to it.

 

Junhoe’s shoulders slacken immediately, and he begins to obey.

 

It’s laughable, how easy it is to command Junhoe. Jiwon had honestly forgotten just how pliant the usually-headstrong man could get under the right circumstances. He strips quickly, not even shy about removing his underwear, and fetches lube when asked, though he does tell Jiwon that there aren’t any condoms around. 

 

All Jiwon has to do to get Junhoe on his knees is put a hand on his shoulder.

 

Jiwon runs his fingers through Junhoe’s hair. Soft, still faintly wet from the shower he’d had as soon as the crew had stumbled wearily into the apartment. Jiwon grips it tightly and tilts Junhoe’s head back to meet his eyes.

 

“You know what to do,” he says. “No hands.”

 

Junhoe nods and leans forward, grabbing the elastic band of Jiwon’s sweatpants with his teeth and dragging it downward, over his cock and partway below his balls. His eyes flick up to meet Jiwon’s as he laves his tongue over the head.

 

Jiwon sighs, content for the moment to let Junhoe get warmed up and help the both of them get more into the mood.

 

His grip on Junhoe’s hair is Jiwon’s main tool. He loosens and tightens his hold based on what he wants Junhoe to do, and as they both get more used to it, Jiwon begins to rock his hips as well. Junhoe seems to be appreciative of the slow start, but Jiwon thinks he can tell as Junhoe starts to slip more and more into a submissive headspace and stops thinking so much.

 

Jiwon pushes forward suddenly, burying himself down Junhoe’s throat, and he feels Junhoe’s surprise, his struggle with his gag reflex.

 

Junhoe’s hand finds Jiwon’s ankle.

 

Jiwon loosens his grip on Junhoe’s hair, but he stays where he is. He lets a long moment pass.

 

Junhoe’s fingers give a gentle squeeze.

 

“Okay, baby,” Jiwon says.

 

Junhoe backs off with a gasp and a slick sound, breathing heavily and leaning his forehead against Jiwon’s thigh for support.

 

“Good boy,” Jiwon praises, scratching gently at Junhoe’s scalp. “You remembered our signal.”

 

Still catching his breath, Junhoe doesn’t respond, but he gives Jiwon the quick double squeeze around his ankle that means he needs a minute. After a few more gasps, once Junhoe has gotten his breathing regulated, he gives three squeezes.

 

When Jiwon tells him to get on his hands and knees in the middle of the bed, Junhoe does it without hesitating.

 

Jiwon runs a hand down Junhoe’s side, making note of the scars he’s never seen and where Junhoe’s current wounds are located.

 

He delivers a stinging slap to Junhoe’s ass without warning, just to see him flinch.

 

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Jiwon asks. He strikes Junhoe’s other cheek. “Dry spell? We’ve been busy, so I don’t blame you.”

 

Jiwon drags his fingernails down the back of Junhoe’s thigh. He hadn’t realized until just now how much he missed how easily his marks show up on Junhoe’s skin.

 

“I’m going to fuck you with my fingers. That sound good?” Jiwon says. “Use words.”

 

Junhoe turns his head so his face is no longer buried in his pillow. “Please,” he says.

 

Jiwon pats Junhoe’s ass fondly, then sticks a finger in him dry. He pops the bottle open and drizzles lube around his finger, fucking the lube into Junhoe’s ass and wishing he could just skip this whole part and bury himself balls deep already. But this is what Junhoe wanted from him, so he’ll do his best to make it memorable.

 

He fucks Junhoe fast and rough on his fingers, listening to the quiet sounds he makes and his changes in breathing to know what is and isn’t good. Junhoe is never loud, during this part. That comes later.

 

“Think you’re ready?” Jiwon asks, three fingers deep in Junhoe.

 

Junhoe rocks back firmly onto Jiwon’s fingers. He takes that as a yes.

 

Jiwon pulls Junhoe’s hips up off the bed, planting a hand in the center of his back to keep him facedown. He squirts more lube over Junhoe’s already-messy hole. A knee inserted between Junhoe’s thighs is all it takes for Junhoe to spread his legs wide to make room for Jiwon.

 

"You've been missing this, haven't you?" Jiwon says. "Missed being stuffed full of my cock, missed being held down and fucked till you can't think."

 

Junhoe moans, and Jiwon sees the signs of a blush spreading down his back. He shifts to try and get more of Jiwon, get him deeper, harder.

 

Jiwon nudges Junhoe’s knees farther apart, spreading him open for easier access. "Can't believe I almost forgot how much of a cockslut you are for me, how bad you want it."

 

Junhoe gives a punched-out sounding groan as Jiwon pushes into him. The slide is easy, Junhoe slick and open to Jiwon’s unrelenting pressure.

 

Once seated fully in Junhoe, Jiwon grabs a double handful of his ass and spreads his cheeks apart to spit on the point where the two of them are joined.

 

“Gross,” Jiwon hears Junhoe mumble.

 

Jiwon gives his ass a sharp smack in rebuke, and Junhoe buries his face in the pillow beneath him.

 

Taking a breath to steady himself, Jiwon sets to work.

 

He pistons his hips a few times to hear Junhoe’s pitiful whining, a sound he would never be caught dead making unless he was getting fucked just the way he liked. And Jiwon knows all the right ways to get Junhoe to scream, had spent hours in the old days taking him apart and piecing him back together and listening to Junhoe beg and cry and whimper.

 

"Listen to you," Jiwon says. He sets a slow rhythm, aiming to drive Junhoe out of his mind. "Fuck, if only everybody else could hear the sounds you're making right now."

 

Junhoe flushes, not far gone enough to not be embarrassed at the thought of the crew hearing him. "More," he whispers.

 

Jiwon slows even further, moving at a glacial pace. "Sorry, what was that? I couldn't hear you, June."

 

"Fuck you, Ji," Junhoe groans. "Harder."

 

Jiwon obliges, snapping his hips forward and earning a sharp gasp from Junhoe as he nails his prostate. "You were made for this, babe," Jiwon says. "You feel so good around me."

 

Junhoe releases a shaky breath, unwinding further. He's always had a bit of a praise kink.

 

"Want you on your knees for me all the time, wanna be able to fuck you anytime I feel like it." Junhoe moans at that, pushing his hips back against Jiwon. "You like that idea? So dirty, so willing to please. Perfect for me. Such a good boy."

 

Junhoe lets out a helpless little whimper and shudders, apparently edging closer and closer to his orgasm.

 

Jiwon wraps a hand around Junhoe’s throat and pulls him up off his elbows, his other hand snakes down to Junhoe’s cock and works him over. He pushes his lips against Junhoe’s ear, brushing sharp teeth along the sensitive skin. "Y'know," he grunts, "I change my mind. I don't want anybody else to hear the noises you make. It's all for me, isn't it baby? You don't cry for anybody else. If somebody else heard these beautiful little sounds, I'd have to kill them."

 

Junhoe shakes against Jiwon, his lips parting but no sound coming out.

 

"You're mine. Nobody else can have you." Jiwon fucks Junhoe as hard as he can, pleased at the thought of his later soreness and trouble sitting. "Say it. Say you're mine."

 

"Ji-"

 

"Say it!"

 

"Fuck!" Junhoe trembles, his cock twitching in Jiwon’s grip. "I'm yours, I'm all yours. I-" he cuts himself off with a sharp gasp, and ropes of come coat Jiwon’s hand. "Come in me! Fuck, fuck, come in-"

 

How could he refuse a request like that?

 

Grinding his hips hard against Junhoe’s ass, Jiwon sinks his teeth into the meat of Junhoe’s shoulder and comes hard inside him. His vision whites out for a moment, and Jiwon bucks frantically into Junhoe as he rides out as orgasm.  He feels Junhoe pushing back into him as best he can.

 

He breathes heavily as he comes back down. And the inevitable, inexorable guilt settles in his stomach.

 

Gently, Jiwon lays Junhoe down onto his belly. 

 

He kisses apologetically at the bite mark he left and goes to fetch a wet rag. When Junhoe feels more secure on his feet, they strip the dirty sheets off the bed together and remake it with clean linens.

 

Junhoe reaches for him once everything is sorted, pulls Jiwon down into his bed and kisses him softly. Despite everything else, Jiwon feels like he might fall apart just from that. He kisses back, trying to put everything he can’t say into it in the hopes that Junhoe will understand.

 

“Don’t leave,” Junhoe says. His hand wraps tight around the back of Jiwon’s neck. “Please stay, Ji. Just for tonight.”

 

Jiwon has to close his eyes or risk being consumed by sorrow.

 

He nods.

 

Junhoe wraps him up securely in an embrace, presses his face into Jiwon’s neck and leaves a gentle kiss there that makes Jiwon ache.

 

Jiwon can’t shut his brain off. He sees death and blood and grief every time he tries to drift to sleep. From the way Junhoe’s breath comes in uneven puffs against his skin, Jiwon knows they’re both having trouble. They take comfort from the presence of one another, even if sleep remains just outside of their reach.

 

This is what Jiwon fought for, what he’s killed for. Right here, in Junhoe’s arms, with their crew near at hand and unfailingly loyal, is where he belongs. It could work, if Jiwon could only stop sabotaging himself.

 

He makes a silent promise to stick around, and hopes he’ll be able to keep it.


End file.
